


Far From Home

by AveryTheTitaniumLady



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: AAAAAAA, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Angst and Feels, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Canonical Character Death, Decreasing condition, Feels, Hurt Peter, Infinity Stone Soul World (Marvel), Just. Peter parker in general man, Ned is mentioned, Not Really Character Death, Pain, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Angst, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is a Good Bro, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Precious Peter Parker, Pure Peter Parker, Reflecting on life, Regrets, Sad, Sick Peter, Sick Peter Parker, Soul Stone (Marvel), Spider-Man - Freeform, Suffering, Thats the mood, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing, Thinking About Death, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Worried Tony Stark, life after death, sick, so is May
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-27 10:05:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16700416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AveryTheTitaniumLady/pseuds/AveryTheTitaniumLady
Summary: Peter Parker knows that everything you do will only happen that exact way once. Then, when you die, it's over.Or at least, that's what it's supposed to be like, what supposed to happen. It seems that Peter is having a different experience, though.





	Far From Home

**Author's Note:**

> Toot toot! Angst train, all aboard!

You know, when I think about the things I've done, there are many things I would change. Many things I wouldn't say or would say, wouldn't do or would do. But, the thing about life is that you don't get a second chance. You don't get to go back and change things that have already happened. You can reimagine them and play them over and over and over in your head. You can torment yourself with thoughts of what could've been, what might have happened. But you cannot change a single thing. You get one chance to live this life the way you want. Every conversation is once in a lifetime. Every smile, every look, every word. Everything you do will only happen that exact way  _ once _ . Then, when you die, it's over.

Or at least, that's what it's supposed to be like, what supposed to happen. 

One of my biggest regrets is that I didn't say goodbye to Aunt May. I don't regret my last words, my apology to Mr. Stark, but I regret not saying goodbye to May so much that it hurts. Hours ago I was certain that after death there was nothing. Now, I am sat here alone, dead and yet not, surround by earthy scents and the vibrant sounds of birds, on a lumpy rock in a grassy clearing. I died, I'm sure of it. I'm not breathing, and I can't feel a pulse. All I feel is a shaky, tenuous pain as if my body is being pulled apart by the very fabric of the universe. As if the atoms of my body are trying to draw themselves away from here and back towards life. I wonder if I'm in limbo? Maybe the spider healing powers are stopping me from dying all the way. Will I be stuck here forever, crying over mistakes I made, forced to smell the scents of plants and hear the sounds of life for all eternity? How long will I mull over my thoughts, my last moments, the final battle, wondering what I could've done differently? I was only alive for sixteen seemingly short years, and yet, when faced with the prospect of staying here for that amount of time it seems like an eternity.  

I wonder if anyone knows I'm gone yet. I wonder about Aunt May, Ned, MJ. I wonder if they got killed by the snap as well. I hope someone is left to save Mr. Stark. He deserves better than to die alone in space. Mr. Stark deserves so much that he doesn't get, but he has Pepper to love him and help him and keep him safe and sane and healthy. Pepper is great. I hope she survived, she could probably kill Thanos just by glaring at him. 

I wish the iron-spider suit had a watch, though honestly it probably wouldn't work, considering Karen has yet to reply to me. It has to have been at least a few hours since I've been here though  because my throat is raw and sore from sobs and screams and cries for help. I've been sliding off the rock for minutes now, too, much as tears have been sliding off my cheeks. Just like them, I eventually fall to the earth. Turning to look up at the sky, I listen to the birds, to their happy singing. Yellow is such an odd colour for the sky. Even when the sun is setting, the whole sky is never this rich, golden colour. It’s bare of clouds as well, and yet it seems as if it's moving. It's nauseating to look at, and I'd rather not be any more nauseous than the pain is making me. Though, maybe I'm delirious from the tugging sensation and imagining the movement of the sky. Who knows? There's no one else here for me to ask. 

I've never been one to give up, but this is looking bleak. I've had a building fall on top of me, I've been drowned in a lake, I've held an elevator up to save my friends. Here, though, there's no one to save, and no one to save me, either. Here there is no one but me, the birds, and those legs in my peripheral vision.  

 

Wait.

 

Hold on.

 

Legs? This feel significant but I can't place why. Why are legs so important? I have two of them, so do most people, so why does this person having legs make me smile? Why is this… person. This person. There's another person! I want to stand up, to say hello, to ask them if they know what going on, but all I can do is sob through a swollen throat, and choke out that it hurts. I try to convince myself to turn my head, to see who this person is, if they’re a friend or a foe. Through now clouded eyes, I see the legs move. Knees bend and a torso comes into view. I can vaguely make out the sound of footsteps, but it's as if I'm hearing them from the inside of a cotton ball. Now that I think about it, I can no longer hear the birds pretty songs. Birds sing such beautiful things. A face hovers over mine. I recognize it. Who is he? Where do I know him from? I'm unsure, everything is hazy. It feels as if my brain is being strung and quartered, pulled off in four different directions. This guy has a wicked beard though. I wonder if I ever would have grown a beard. 

The bearded man is the only thing I can see. His mouth is moving but all sound has left. Why is he not speaking louder? Doesn't he know I can't hear him? I feel a gasp escape my mouth, and Mr. Falcon replaces beard-man. I know him. He's an avenger. Though I suppose I’m one now, too. Mr. Stark said so on the flying doughnut. Feeling reinvigorated I jolt up into a seated position. I can feel the snot leaking from my nose and the sticky, salty feeling of dried tears on my face. I hear yelling, too. As if looking in from a different world, I make out the words “Found” “Crying” “Says” and “Hurt”. As my hearing fades again and I collapse back to the earth, I wonder who they're talking about. With that question in my head, my eyelashes suddenly feel like they weigh a ton, and my eyes drop closed. 

It seems but a second later that a muffled voice returns. It's different than the ones in the clearing, more familiar. I try it puzzle out what it's saying. My mind is still so muddled, like headphones after being in a hoodie pocket. I strain to open my eyes, to see who's speaking. It takes so much effort, but I do it. As my eyelids drag open I begin to notice the feeling of someone's arms around me. I can sort of make out what the voice is saying. It sounds like “Kid”. Only Mr. Stark calls me kid. That's weird. Unless…

It's him. It's Mr. Stark! My eyes finally open, and against everything I’ve ever known, I'm back on Titan cradled in Mr. Starks arms. Only him and Nebula remain. As well as me now, I guess. 

“God kid, first I watch you turn to dust and then minutes later I watch that same dust pull itself back together into you. You're gonna give me a heart attack.” Mr. Stark seems like he hopes to come off as exasperated, but I can tell he’s really just exhausted and worried. Had it really only been minutes? 

“ ‘m s’ry Mr. St’rk. D'n't mean ‘o.” My voice is still hoarse as if all of my sobbing in that limbo-like place really did cause damage. I regain control of my arms and push myself up to my knees. Turning to look at Mr. Stark, I give him a smile. Covered in tears and snot and drool and grime, and yet all of my pain is forgotten, I tilt my head up and look my mentor in the eyes, then croak out a single sentence.

 

“Let's go save the universe.” 

 


End file.
